Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Ingrid Bergman gives a
virtuoso solo performance in this Jean Cocteau one-act. The plot of thishour-long piece is a simple one: a woman, devastated after her lover leaves her
for someone else, speaks to him on the phone one last time. The piece is
beautifully, perfectly written and performed--all of the little lies and
desperate hopes of heartbreak are captured. Bergman's performance is as brave
as it is complex--she is willing to let her character crumble into an
embarrassing weakness that few actresses would risk. Anyone who has ever nursed
false hopes of salvaging a relationship will find this piece all too well done.
See it, but not right after a breakup.

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Juan Felipe Herrera, the first Latino to be U.S. poet laureate, is a
master of many poetic forms. When I was student at the University of
Iowa, I had an experimental writing class with him. He published one of my poems in an anthology. It was truly an honor! He then gave me a cassette
of Parisa's songs as a gift! Congratulations, Juan Felipe!

Monday, June 1, 2015

After many years, I visited Iowa, my second birthplace!
This time in a farm belonged to my friend from the south- west of Iowa. Acres
after acres, the field was covered with green grass, newly planted corn and soy beans. It was
an illuminating experience, learning about American pioneers, family
structures, communities, churches,
schools, farming, towns with less than 3000
populations, animals, horses, birds, darkness, silence and sounds…The sound of nature,
the sound of rain, wind, mooing black Angus cows, swallows, Baltimore Orioles, Red-winged Blackbirds
…and the trains from faraway… All the sounds and rhythms of nature reminded me
of Lady Chatterley, theFrench film directed by Pascale Ferran…and D.H. Lawrence’s
poetic observation…

Peonies, pink and fragrant, freshly grown on the cemetery, around
my friends’ great grandmothers’ grave, great grandfathers’ and relatives’
invited me to their loving world, speaking with me silently…. And Sweeper, the old dog, my faithful companion
--to my surprise-- guarded me all night behind the window. My eyes were closed,
but I could hear his heavy breathing… and the black cat, Einstein…aloof and
distant was on the porch, ignoring everything …

On Monday as I was walking alone on the field, my presence frightened
the cows! They ran from one side of the field to the other…Looking into my eyes
aggressively, mooing loud as if they were crying for help! The cattle from the far
north mooed in harmony with them, ran quickly towards them, as if they their territory
was in danger… My friend laughed hard…I said: you see! Even the cows would perceive
me differently! Like a foreigner! Am I a foreigner!?

It was enormously encouraging to see great quotes from writers
and poets in the resting area at Tiffin, seven miles west of Iowa City, instead
of advertising. Quotes from Writers such as Kurt Vonnegut, Tennessee Williams, Jane
Smiley, Marvin Bell, Paul Engle, John Irving and….who were graduated from Writers
Workshop or taught at the University of Iowa. One of the passages
comes from Ames-born U.S. Poet Laureate Ted Kooser; it reads: “There’s no money
in poetry because most of my neighbors, and most of yours, don’t have any use
for it." And the other from Tennessee Williams: "Death is one moment, and life is so many of them."

There was a city calledAdel; a city with the population of 3,682. Adel is part of the Des Moines area.

In one of the malls in Iowa City, this Mary-go-round took me to the year of 1989, while writing my first play "Metamorphosis" in English...